“Read it. I don’t mind.”

“But... very well, if you insist,” Lu Bei said awkwardly, bowing his head as he forced himself to read. “If... if possible, I’d like to have your child, any number you wish. This is the wish of a young woman from Dawn City. My address is...”

Chu Guang, sipping his tea to moisten his throat, nearly spat it all over the table. Coughing, he waved his hand quickly. “Okay, okay, stop reading!”

Lu Bei obediently folded the letter shut and asked in a low voice, “Sir... should we reply to this one?”

A quick glance at the time on his VM made Chu Guang cut him off before he could say anything else foolish.

“We can’t possibly respond to every single letter. Right, what we need is an Administrator’s Office to handle all correspondence from New Alliance citizens. They can select meaningful questions and answer them publicly in newspapers and broadcasts.”

“Also, each department should have its own office to process citizen mail and, when necessary, hold press conferences to clarify issues of public concern. Stop sending everything to me... I’ll need to talk to someone about this. Looks like my break is over.”

He had almost forgotten about it.

When the printing factory fire incident happened, he had already thought of creating a more official communication channel. They couldn’t always rely on newspaper reporters coming to interview them.

The Alliance Council was currently drafting related legislation. The New Alliance administration needed to do its part too.

As Chu Guang finished speaking and walked out, Lu Bei just stood there, the love letter still pinched in his fingers, completely stunned.

So... what exactly was he supposed to do with this letter?

Standing by the coffee machine, Yin Fang had witnessed the whole thing and teased with a grin, “No offense meant, but the boss can be surprisingly shy sometimes. ...Though only sometimes.”

...

At the border between the Poro Continent and the Southern Seas, a cargo ship with a tall chimney slowly glided through a wide strait.

Dense jungle flanked both sides, and jagged reefs lined the coast. The ruined concrete harbor nearby hinted that this had once been a prosperous port city, now reduced to nothing but the chirping of insects and the occasional cry of apes.

On the deck, a cloaked woman stood uneasily.

Her name was Misa, a young woman in her early twenties with brown hair. Before the catastrophe, she had been a teacher in Port Gallon. Though she had grown up in a port city, she had never sailed this far from home.

“Where is this place?” she asked softly.

“Baiyue Province,” a pleasant voice answered from behind her.

Misa turned. A pair of lively cat ears swayed gently in the sea breeze, and the bright, playful face of Sesame Paste smiled back at her.

The sailors and mercenaries on board called the girl the Silvermoon Envoy.”

Feeling a little intimidated, Misa couldn’t help but ask curiously, “What kind of place is that?”

Walking to the railing, Sesame Paste squinted at the tropical strait, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke in a calm, storytelling tone.

“Its northeast border is the Ocean Edge Province, its east side faces the Southern Seas, and to the northwest lies the Sunset Province. Cross the Tzobar Mountains and you’ll reach Oasis No.4 and Silvermoon Bay. On the map, it looks like two teeth stacked on top of each other, with this strait in between.”

It had once been a tourist paradise under the Federation, home to many thriving resort cities.

But in the 50 years since the Three Year War, all traces of human civilization had slowly faded away.

Listening intently, Misa asked, “Will we be docking here?”

Sesame Paste thought for a moment, frowning slightly. “Hmm, probably not. We went ashore briefly once, but we didn’t find any survivors, just dangerous mutant creatures and deadly insects.”

Maybe the developers hadn’t finished this part of the map yet. When they explored by motorboat, they found no usable harbors and decided not to go deeper inland.

She had heard the Camel Kingdom once tried to claim the region, building a small colony along the coast, but it had fallen to mutants, plagues, strange tropical diseases, and the crushing cost of maintaining it.

As the envoy spoke, Misa’s curiosity was satisfied, but a hint of disappointment lingered.

Moments earlier, she had been dreaming of bringing all the Moonfolk refugees from Poro Province here to build a new home. Now it seemed things wouldn’t be so easy.

“You know so much,” Misa said sincerely.

Seeing the admiration shining in the young woman’s eyes, Sesame Paste scratched the back of her head shyly and smiled. “Well, we travel a lot, after all.”

Maybe because she had also been a teacher in real life, she felt a certain fondness for this NPC girl.

There was no pride in her tone, but Misa looked even more wistful.

Traveling...

That was something she had never dared to dream of.

For people with homes, travel was an adventure. For the homeless like her, even going somewhere new was just wandering.

“Then... where will we disembark?”

“In the Southern Seas, there’s an artificial island,” Sesame Paste said gently. “Quite a few survivors live there with the help of shelter residents. We plan to stop by and see if they’ll trade, or at least let us buy supplies. If they won’t take you in, we’ll continue eastward to Among Cloud Province on the mainland.”

Misa’s eyes shimmered with tears. “I... I don’t even know how to thank you.”

Sesame Paste laughed softly. “No need. It’s not like we have anywhere specific to be.”

Just as they were chatting, an alarm suddenly blared across the ship.

Sesame Paste froze for half a second, then hurried Misa back to the cabin, warning her firmly not to come up on deck.

Once that was done, she grabbed her gear and joined the others on the deck, where she found Tail standing with one foot on the rail, eyes narrowed toward the horizon.

“What’s going on?” Sesame Paste asked instantly.

Tail’s face was tense as she squinted at the distance. “Pirates.”

Sesame Paste blinked.

Beside her, Roshan gave a helpless shrug. “There can’t always be pirates.”

As they spoke, two small speedboats rounded the rocks ahead and began approaching the cargo ship.

Compared to their Roro Boat, the boats looked like bathtub toys, though their electric drives made them noticeably faster.

From the bridge, Sisi narrowed her eyes. She noticed the boats lacked the black ironwood hull plating typically used to ward off sea beasts, so they must have been relying on some other technology.

One of the boats pulled ahead. A man in a soldier’s uniform stood at the bow and shouted toward the cargo ship.

“This is Federal territorial waters! Who are you people?”

“Federal?”

Roro and Sesame Paste exchanged confused looks. Since when was there a federation here? Just the year before, when they had come through the area, there had only been a few island settlements.

Has the map’s factions been refreshed?

The two were completely baffled.

But Tail, standing by the railing, showed no confusion at all. Her brain waves seemed instantly synchronized with theirs as she shouted back cheerfully, “Oh! Friends from the Federation! This is the Order of the White Bear!”

The man on the speedboat blinked. “What’s that?”

Sisi, who had arrived on deck without anyone noticing, quickly pulled Tail back and cleared her throat before calling out loudly, “We’re traders from Silvermoon Bay! We’re heading through the strait to reach the eastern ports of the Central Continent. We just need to dock for fresh water and supplies.”

The man eyed her suspiciously but found nothing wrong in her tone. “Fine, but let me make this clear, we only take Dinars or CR. No funny money with animals printed on it.”

He definitely meant the Camel Coins of the Sunset Province.

Because of their lower gold content and limited backing, those coins rarely circulated outside their home region.

Sisi nodded calmly. “No problem.”

“Follow us, and watch for reefs and mines,” the man said before turning his boat around.

Roshan frowned and whispered in Mandarin, “Why not just tell them the truth?”

“You mean tell them we’ve got nearly a thousand refugees on board? I’m not sure they would let us dock if they knew.”

Watching the patrol boats disappear ahead, Sisi’s eyes narrowed slightly. Something didn’t feel right about that place.

She had a bad feeling, the trip to Shelter 70 wasn’t going to be as peaceful as she had hoped.

Roshan scratched her meaty head.

Tail, ever dramatic, leaned over and warned him in mock seriousness, “The world’s a dangerous place, Roro. If they find out we’re wanted pirates by the Xilande Empire, they might turn us in for that 3,600,000,000 berry bounty!”

“You’ve got the wrong currency, and our bounty isn’t that high!” Roro said, half exasperated, half amused. But he understood Sisi’s caution.

This wasn’t their territory, after all. It was best to stay careful.